


Like You Were Never Gone

by ccecily



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of feels tbh, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Feelings Realization, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Newt Lives, Post-Canon, Post-The Death Cure, also i dunno how to tag things sorry, and also good friends, but like... only in the first chapter i promise, gladers being gladers, that's the only thing that diverges from canon though, the happy ending we all deserved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccecily/pseuds/ccecily
Summary: He really thought he was gone, then. He had been gone for a while, probably. Till suddenly, he wasn’t.Or, Newt did not die in the Last City and now is fighting his way back home, to his loved ones. To Thomas.





	1. Home is Such a Lonely Place Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like... my first ever TMR fanfic and it's also the first time I post anything here. Oh, and also the first time I write a fic in English! As you may guess, English is not my first language but I was lucky enough to find the most awesome and wonderful and lovely beta ever, Rachel ([luminousnewt](http://luminousnewt.tumblr.com) on tumblr): thank you so much dear, I'm not sure this story would be here without your much needed help!
> 
> So, about the actual story: it's set after the events of TDC (movie verse) and it's going to be 3/4 chapters long. It's going to feature a couple of original characters for reasons that will be obvious pretty soon (hope it doesn't bother you guys!). The title is from the song "You Were Never Gone" by Hannah Ellis and there is going to be a little bit of angst in this first chapter, but fear not... good things are coming! This is, after all, a fix-it fic and I honestly hope I'll be able to give you the TDC ending we all deserved!

Thomas woke up in a pool of his own sweat, chest pounding almost painfully. His eyes were frantically scanning the dark room trying to see, trying to understand…

_A nightmare._ He realised after a while. _It was just a nightmare._

He sat up in his makeshift bed, trying to catch his breath. _In and out_ , he commanded himself, _in and out_.

Thomas glanced around the room and his eyes landed on his friends. They were all still fast asleep, their chests rising and falling regularly. Someone was snoring softly in the background and outside the window Thomas could see that the sun was starting to rise.

_Just another nightmare_ , he repeated to himself. He was having quite a lot these days.

Actually, he couldn’t remember the last night when he truly slept. Some mornings he would wake up with his shirt soaked in sweat and his heart beating quickly, never fully well rested.

Every time he closed his eyes to sleep after a tiring day of work the scenes would just start to replay under his closed eyelids, like a movie he put on pause every morning and resumed every night. Some of them were just nightmares, but most of them were memories; Thomas could barely recognise one from the other anymore.

He saw the city burn, he saw skyscrapers fall like sand castles. He saw the cranks, coming at him, trying to eat him alive. He saw WICKED soldiers capturing kids. The soldiers then morphed into scientists, their white coats soaked in blood while they tortured his friends.

He dreamed he was still in the Glade, only it was not like the Glade at all: it was dark, haunted, ruined. In the dream, he would start running. He ran away from that place, finding his way through the Maze, just like he did in a life that seemed to belong to another time, to another person. His friends were at his side then and he tried so desperately to lead them to safety while the metallic roars of the Grievers followed them close by. But when he finally reached the safe passage the Walls would start closing in, crushing them.

He saw Teresa in his nightmares, too. At times she was with the other scientists, her blue eyes big and cold and her hands red with blood. She would whisper to him that WICKED was good right before thrusting a syringe of bright blue liquid in his neck.

Other times he would see her like the last time he saw her, on the top of that building, just seconds before she fell.

But most of the time, he saw Newt.

_Just like now_ , Thomas though, the sensation of the nightmare still painfully vivid in his body. He closed his eyes firmly, trying to slow his breathing, trying not to think about it, but as he did so a fast sequence of images flooded his eyelids.

He saw Newt sitting on the rooftop, his feet dangling just over the edge. He was telling him how he tried to kill himself back in the Maze. He was telling him that he wasn’t immune, that he had caught the flare; and then the memory would turn into a nightmare and Newt’s eyes would turn to him, staring at him with a hatred that did not belong to the boy he knew. Newt would start to scream at him then, telling him it was all his fault, telling him he hated him, right before jumping down. And Thomas reached out, trying to grab him, to bring him back, to save him.

But every time he was too late. And in the dream, he fell too.

He would then wake up with the feeling that he was still falling, Newt’s words still clear in his head, like he really spoke them. _It is all your fault, Tommy. I hate you._

And the worst part was, he actually believed them.

Thomas took a shaky breath and grasped harshly at the collar of his soaked shirt. His fingers brushed his skin until they finally found a familiar piece of string. He automatically breathed out in relief and took out the necklace with trembling hands, his pale fingers clasping firmly around the small metal capsule, twisting it absently with his thumb and index finger.

He made the habit of keeping that string around his neck day and night. He never took it off, because that necklace was all that was left of Newt and he was never going to give it up.

He usually tucked it underneath his clothes, so the cold capsule settled against his bare skin, close to his heart. Sometimes, when he felt like the world was collapsing underneath his feet, he would find a quiet spot to sit down, and would fidget with the capsule for a moment. He would let his fingers linger on the metal lid, opening and closing the cap, until he finally decided to open it and take out the sheets of paper that were hidden inside.

He didn’t really need to read them: he had memorized every word. However, he wanted to see Newt’s handwriting, so he would hold the letter between his shaky hands and read his words, over and over again, and he would hear his voice telling him he deserved to be happy. He hoped he did. He wasn’t sure he did.

After all, everything that happened was his fault.

The boy got up as silently as he could, trying not to wake Minho and Frypan. He really needed some alone time right about now. Waking up after a nightmare was hard enough, but waking up after a nightmare about Newt was always worst.

He remembered a night when the nightmare had felt so real he woke up screaming. He remembered Minho rushing towards his bed, his eyes staring at Thomas, full of concern; and when he saw that Thomas was crying, he somehow understood. He held him in arms as he cried till his eyes turned dry. Frypan sat on his other side, patting his back while tears fell silently down his cheeks as well.

He headed out of their shared cot, gladly inhaling the crisp morning breeze as he closed the wooden door behind his back. Hearing the muffled sound of the waves breaking gently on the shore had the power to calm him immediately. He insisted to have the cot that was closer to the beach for that specific reason, and no one really argued about it.

Taking a deep breath, he started walking towards the ocean, just like he always did when he wanted to be alone. Or to think. Or to do both of those things.

Life was going well in Safe Haven, it really was.

They were all putting in their best efforts to build their new home, their new beginning, and Thomas did nothing less, helping, working hard, smiling reassuringly to the others. The youngest ones - but the oldest, as well - looked up to him. Vince was their leader, that was clear, but still, people would come to him for advice sometimes; or to offer up new ideas. Even Vince always looked to him before taking a decision and he was glad, he really was. But he didn’t feel like a leader at all, not after everything he had done wrong. Despite this, he tried. He tried so hard to grant Newt his last wish, at least. But he knew deep inside that it was all a lie.

Things just didn’t feel right. He would find himself at dinner, sitting with Minho at his right, and he would turn to his left whenever his friend said something funny or stupid, to see if Newt was laughing as well. But Newt was not there.

He would glance towards the gardens, where people were starting to grow crops, expecting to see him there, weaving stems just like he did in the Glade. But he wasn’t there, either.

He was gone, and nothing about it felt right. Thomas still felt his presence linger everywhere. But the only trace Newt ever existed was his name on that stone and the necklace he wore around his neck everyday. That letter… those crumpled pieces of paper was the only evidence that he had once lived and breathed and loved. That he had _existed_ , even; and it hurt Thomas so much to the point he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He passed the stone where they had carved the names of the people that were left behind without even looking at it. He just stared at the ocean, at the waves lazily curling over and dissolving into thin foam, and kept walking.

He was always trying so hard not to think about what happened, knowing just how much he would have suffered if he did. But without WICKED, without the constant need to run and hide, he had an awful lot of time to think. To _really_ think.

It felt kind of stupid but during his time in the Maze and in the Scorch and later on, during the months he spent planning rescuing missions, he never really had time to stop and think about himself, about his life. Nor did he ever think about his feelings. God, feelings were a stupid thought when your life was in constant danger.

But now… now he had all the time to think about it. And he did think about it quite a lot.

Despite his short life has been mostly lived in lies and running, he had loved. He must have loved his family, even if he didn’t remember them.

He loved his friends, fiercely and without hesitation.

He had loved Teresa. He probably did. Could he have loved her again, after what she did? Maybe, he never really thought about it. And then she fell. She fell and she was gone. The image of her eyes, when she understood she wouldn’t make it… it was something Thomas could never forget. His heart still hurt badly even now, while he was walking, bare feet brushing the golden sand, waves gently caressing his ankles.

He could have loved Brenda. He still could. He probably _should_. The others wouldn’t stop teasing him about it. Jorge, too; but Brenda didn’t. She gave him soft and caring smiles every time their eyes met and Thomas knew, he _knew_ that if he only made the first step, she would follow, but she respected him and knew him well enough not to push him. She saw that there was a struggle going on within him, and that he needed time.

Yes, maybe one day he could love Brenda, but he couldn’t make himself love her just yet. He just couldn’t. His heart couldn’t love her, because it was already in love with someone else.

It took him a while to understand that, but when he did, the realisation struck him like a lightning bolt. Even now, remembering that moment, Thomas felt a jolt of emotion spreading through his body.

Thomas closed his eyes, his hands clasping almost painfully at the necklace, overwhelmed by the feeling. _No_. He thought. _You will not think of that. You will not remember that._ Because that moment came for him enough already during his sleepless nights. He bit back tears, but a single one escaped anyway, rolling down his cheek, falling to the sand.

Newt was gone. He killed him. He killed him, when he could have been saved. It was all his fault. He killed his best friend. He killed the boy he loved.

He didn’t know the exact moment he realised he had feelings for Newt. Maybe it was while reading his letter. Maybe he always knew, but never admitted it. Maybe he thought he would have had time. Time to figure it all out, _together_.

But he was wrong.

He did not have time.

And now, it was too late and Newt was gone.

And what was the point in realizing what his feelings were now? What was the point in constantly wondering about what it could have been? What was even the point in loving someone that was gone forever? Someone you killed? These thoughts could not bring anything but misery and suffering, and Thomas knew that. He knew, but he just couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. About _him_. He wondered if Newt had loved him, too. He had never thought about it till now, and he would have never knew the answer.

Thomas felt like screaming but he knew he couldn’t do it. The others had to think he was okay. They knew he wasn’t, none of them were, despite their appearances. Maybe they would be, one day. He wasn’t so sure about that himself, though.

His fingers were still absently playing with the necklace when he heard Minho’s voice calling for him. He was standing on a sand dune, his hands around his mouth as he screamed to get his attention.

“Hey, you shank! Watcha doin over there? Breakfast’s ready! If you don’t come now Frypan says you’ll have nothing left!” Minho shouted.

Thomas did his best to wipe away his tears so Minho couldn’t see them. He knew his friend was hurt just as badly as he was. He knew he blamed himself for Newt’s fate, too; and for those reasons he had to show him he was okay. He needed to convince Minho he was okay. For both of them.

Thomas took a deep breath, turned around and gave his friend the biggest smile he could muster.

“Yeah! Coming!” he shouted in response.

He glanced at the horizon one last time, still fidgeting with the capsule. He didn’t even need to read it to hear Newt’s words. _Take care of yourself. You deserve to be happy._ With a faint sight he put the necklace back underneath his shirt.

He gladly welcomed the cold and familiar weight of the capsule against his skin as it took its usual place, close to his heart.

 

* * *

 

“Careful!” Mike exclaimed, pulling the handbrake in a rush, but the boy was already gone, running towards the cliff. The Jeep came to a stop with a sharp jolt.

Mike sighed and looked back at James. They nodded to each other, opened the Jeep’s doors and jumped out. They exchanged yet another glance before approaching the other boy.

He was standing still, his back straight and the ocean breeze was piercing at his skin, rustling his hair and grabbing at his clothes, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes were fixed on the ocean, his gaze lost to the horizon.

“Are you okay?” Mike asked, and he stopped himself from reaching his hand out towards him. He wasn’t sure he would have appreciated the gesture, especially now. He braced himself trying to fight off the cold instead.

The other boy didn’t answer, he just kept staring ahead.

“Is this the right place?” James asked after a while, but his question was followed by silence as well and the two boys just stared silently at the horizon, waiting for the boy standing between them to say something. They didn’t pressure him, though. They understood he needed time.

“Yeah.” The boy said after a while. “Yeah, that’s the place. But the the ship is gone.”

“Well, then it means they made it back. They managed to escape.” Mike said glancing at the boy standing next to him, trying to sound as hopeful as possible.

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe…” James started, staring at the ruins of what once had been an harbour.

Mike leaned forward and slapped his best friend’s arm. James just shrugged at him.

“I’m just saying…”

“No.” The boy interrupted him mid-sentence, his eyes still gazing at the ocean. There was a strange light in them, a light Mike couldn’t quite read. “If the ship is gone, it means they made it.”

Silence fell once again and Mike waited for James to ask the next question. As it turned out, he didn’t have to wait long.

“So… what’s the plan?” He asked almost casually, thrusting his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, as if he was asking what the plans for the evening were.

“We look for them.”

James turned to look at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I’m bloody serious.” The boy stared down at him, and now Mike understood what that light in his eyes was. It was determination. That boy had a purpose, and he would have done anything to reach it.

“Look…” James started again, and Mike tried to signal him to stop but his friend apparently didn’t get the cue. “I know we promised to help you…”

“Yeah, cause I promised you I could lead you to the Right Arm.”

Mike stepped closer, not liking how the conversation was going a single bit. “You know that’s not the reason we made our promise.”

But James ignored him and went on with his discourse. “Anyway, you don’t know if your friends made it back from the Last City… and from what I’ve seen over there, it’s unlikely.”

Mike could see the other boy going still and clenching his fists. “I already told you, they made it.”

“Well, you don’t know that…” James insisted.

Mike really would have loved to smack his friend. In the head. With a rock. “James, stop.”

“Wha- I’m just saying… what’s the point in looking for the Right Arm anyway? WICKED is gone. Their Last City has been destroyed.” James retorted.

“Yes, but the virus is still out there, am I right?” The boy said, his voice dry. “And from what I know, you’re not immune.”

“You’re right, but…” James felt clearly intimidated under the other boy’s stern glare. They were roughly the same age, but he seemed so much older. Probably because he had endured things the two boys could only imagine. “But maybe we can just try and find a safe place, and start again there.”

The boy’s hand clenched and unclenched as he tried to steady his breathing. His expression softened then, but he didn’t lose his determination.

“Look, if you don’t want to help me anymore, I get it. I won’t force you. But I’m going.”

With that, he turned around and started to descend towards the beach. Mike and James exchanged a worried look.

“Wait!” Mike ran to catch up. “Wait, James doesn’t know what he’s saying. Of course we want to help you. But how are we supposed to find them? You said it yourself you didn’t know where they would be headed!”

“You’re right, I didn’t. But I did know the direction they would take, and that has to be enough.”

“Yeah, okay!” James said. “But how can we find them? We take a boat? Can any of us actually navigate one? And then, how are we supposed to…”

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure this out.” The other boy’s words sounded final. “I’m going to find them. If you want to help me, then it’s fine. But I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

The boy turned his back on them once again and headed for the beach, with a limping but oddly resolute pace.

“That boy is crazy, I tell you.”

Mike glanced at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” James responded.

They watched over him for a while. Mike admired his determination. He had been literally through hell and back, and still he had the strength to fight for what he believed in.

“Well, it’s not like we have many other options anyway now, have we? Besides, when we decided to leave WICKED, we promised we would help anyone that had ever been tortured by them… and look at him. Just… look at him, James. He needs our help.”

James looked conflicted, and Mike understood him. They were finally free from WICKED, they could have run off and found a peaceful place to start over again. He knew throwing themselves into a desperate search through the ocean was far, far away from what they wanted, but they made a promise and Mike had no intention to turn away from it.

“We’re going to help him find his friends. His family. And when he’ll find them, then maybe we’ll find a family too, with the Right Arm. It is the right thing to do, I know it.” Mike pleaded.

He knew that James was still unsure, but he just felt it in his guts, it was the same sensation he had when he decided he was done with WICKED. “I trust him. If he says he can find them, then I believe him.”

James nodded twice, as if trying to convince himself more than anything. “Okay then. You know I’m with you, always.” He agreed.

“I know.” Mike squeezed James’ shoulder briefly.

“He must really care about them, to be so determined.” James said pointedly.

Mike considered that for a moment. He did say that he himself and a bunch of others had broken into WICKED’s lab to rescue one of their friends. That was the reason he was in the Last City in the first place. They broke into the most secure building in the world… just to save one person. And he had almost lost his life in doing so.

“I heard him whisper a name, in his sleep.” He said after a while. “I don’t think he sleeps very well after what happened to him. I think he has nightmares.”

“Yeah.” James agreed. “What name did he say?”

“I’m not sure… it sounded a lot like Tommy.” Mike mumbled.

The two boys stared at the blond. He was inspecting some small boats that were left in the harbour.

“We should go to him.” Mike added after a while. “We need to inject him with the serum, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

The boy stood with his back straight, hands on his hips. His bad leg was giving him a hard time, but he tried not to think about it. He had to be hopeful right now. It was the only way.

He managed to find a small boat that was still fairly intact. It should fit three people just fine and hopefully it won’t sink after just leaving the harbour. It looked like some sort of fishing boat - smelled like one, too. It wasn’t the most inviting vehicle. Actually, it looked like a piece of garbage, but it had to do. It was not like he had many other options to choose from.

He absentmindedly brought a hand over his chest and stroked a spot, just underneath his heart. He could still feel the stinging pain underneath the bandages. He didn’t know if it was real pain though, or only a ghost of what it felt like. His breathing slowed down when he thought about that moment, right when the knife had pierced his chest, ripping his skin so close to his heart.

He kept gazing at the sun setting on the horizon, his eyes stern. The view was breathtaking, especially since he never thought he would have lived long enough to see another sunset.

But he didn’t have time to admire it now. Nor to brood. He needed to prepare the boat, gather everything he could; maps, food, water, refurbishments. And then he would leave and sail. Alone, if he had to. Sail until he found them. Until he found his friends, his family.

Until he found _him_.

Newt pressed his lips together, determination raising inside of him, his heartbeat speeding up again. And he made a promise to the settling sun.

_I’m coming for you, Tommy. I promise._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch that little throwback at The Fever Code over there? Yes? No? Also wow, thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the ride! If you did (but if you did not as well) I would really appreciate any kind of feedback, from kudos to comments and constructive criticism! If you'd like to chat with me about this or about tmr or newtmas or anything at all, you can find me on tumblr as [newtmazing](http://newtmazing.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I'm going to post the second chapter asap, just keep in mind that English is not my first language so it may take a little bit (again, thank you Rachel for being my awesome beta!). Anyway, I can tell you chapter two will bring answers, feels and a much anticipated and very emotional reunion... 
> 
> Thank you again for reading this and lots of love to all of you ;)


	2. I'll Find My Way Back To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas had been so occupied with staring at the ocean and the shore that he didn’t even notice the motionless figure staring back at him from far away.  
>    
> When a sense of vertigo hit him, Thomas turned around.  
>    
> And then, he saw it: a dark silhouette, coming slowly towards him from the other side of the island.

They’ve been sailing for five days straight now. 

Newt’s skin was now used to the constant exposition to the sun as well as the salt water brushing over it. His hair was a mess because of the wind but he couldn’t care less; all he could think about was that he needed to keep going. 

He did almost all the sailing, mostly because he felt like he had to, since it had been his idea in the first place, but also… it came oddly easy for him to do so. Maybe he had a family that loved sailing, maybe he had a father that taught him how to, in his past life. Newt didn’t know; he was just glad he could do it easily. 

It was the only positive thing he could think of right about now. They’ve been stopping every time they spotted a place that would allow them to dock their small boat; they tried using maps to locate them, but most of the time they were places and small islands that weren’t even mapped out, making their mission ever more difficult. 

Every time they stopped they would disembark from their boat and start looking around (it was mostly Newt and James though, because as they found out soon enough, Mike was a little sea-sick). They were desperately trying to find something, _anything_ that would suggest someone had been there recently, something that indicated the passage of other human beings. Until now, they had no such luck.   

Newt could tell Mike and James were losing faith - if they ever had any. Mike, maybe. Not James though; Newt could still remember his desolate expression when they left the old Jeep behind. He knew that crappy-looking fishing boat wasn’t as appealing, but in the end James subsided to Newt’s stern glare and Mike’s pleading one and followed them inside the boat, sighing. 

Newt felt terribly guilty for dragging them both into his desperate mission, but he knew he couldn’t make it on his own. He was still weak and his strengths weren’t back in full yet. 

This could obviously happen, when you’ve been literally one step from being dead.

He breathed in the ocean air, wind messing up his tousled hair. He closed his eyes, but immediately regretted doing so, because every time he did it he saw bits and pieces from that day; the day he managed to infiltrate the WICKED compounds and to save his best friend. The day he almost died. 

And of course he saw him, too. He saw Tommy, his face the moment he had seen the knife thrusted in his chest. He could see him _so vividly_ he had the childish thought that if he only extended his arm his fingers would reach to brush his face. 

He remembered the pain in Thomas’ eyes, his devastated expression. Newt felt a pang in his chest every time he did. He never wanted to make him suffer, but he was glad the knife ended up in his own chest and not in Thomas’. Even now, Newt wasn’t sure how it all happened. After all, he wasn’t really himself when it did, but if he could have had control over his actions he would have done it himself. He was going to kill Thomas, he remembered that much, and he knew he could never have lived with himself if he did.  

Newt also remembered how in that moment, when he collapsed to the ground, still in Thomas’ arms, he really though that that was it, that was the end. It was not like the first time, when he jumped from that Wall in the Maze. Back then he only felt pain; striking, unbearable pain and misery that would not leave him. This time, though… this time he still felt pain, but it was abandoning his body. He felt kind of at peace, in some ways. He was in Thomas’ arms, and he was fading away, slowly…

He really thought he was gone, then. He had been gone for a while, probably. Till suddenly, he wasn’t. 

Newt opened his eyes, the salty breeze brushing away the memories, bringing him back to the present. He glanced over his shoulder at Mike and James and found himself smiling fondly watching the two of them bicker over the maps while crossing out the routes they already traveled through. 

Without them he would have been dead, no questions asked.

He still remembered waking up on the hard pavement. The first thing his eyes saw was fire. Fire, everywhere. And gunshots. Then he heard the screams; they were all around him, reverberating in his skull, until he finally saw two unfamiliar faces staring down at him.

“Shit! You did it Mike! He’s _alive_!”

He remembered blinking, trying desperately to see, to understand what was going on around him. He remembered the conflict that broke out, he remembered trying to escape with the others. He remembered the fight… and he remembered the knife. His hand flew to  his chest, expecting to find the knife’s handle but his fingers only brushed thin air and a piece of soaked cloth plastered to his chest.

When his panicked eyes finally managed to focus what was going on around him, he looked at the two young boys staring down at him, and right after taking in their worried expressions, he noticed their clothes: they were wearing WICKED uniforms.

Newt had wanted to scream and punch them but found that he couldn’t move; then pain hit him, and it was a kind of pain that spread right from his chest to all of his body, a piercing, lacerating kind of pain. He remembered grimacing his teeth in agony and wriggling painfully on the ground. He was probably screaming, but he wasn’t sure. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay!” Mike had said with an agitated voice, holding up his hands. “We’re not going to hurt you, I promise! We’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

Newt remembered struggling, at first. But he was too confused and hurting to actually achieve anything. He was supposed to be dead. Or to be a Crank, at the very least. Instead, he was neither. 

He passed out a minute or so after they picked him up, so they had to drag him unconscious out of the chaos of the burning city. Newt still had no idea how they managed to do it but somehow they did, and he was glad they hadn’t given up on him because otherwise he wouldn’t be alive. 

He spent days dozing in and out of consciousness, or so they told him. He actually didn’t remember much. He only remembered being drowsy and in pain, a lot of pain. 

In his rare moments of consciousness he remembered laying down on a rough mattress in a small, dimly lit room. He remembered two sets of dark eyes staring down at him, full of concern. He remembered trying to ask about Thomas, about his friends, but his voice wouldn’t come out. He remembered the stinging pain of a needle being pushed through his skin before dozing off again. 

The two boys kept him alive for days, curing his wounds and injecting him with the serum regularly, till his veins stopped being black and his eyes stopped being bloodshot and his breath stopped coming out in rough gasps. Until he was himself again.

After almost a week the excruciating pain finally stopped and he was able to eat again and to sit properly on the bed. He still eyed the two boys with wariness though; he was still too confused and scared. Suddenly he was alive again, but his friends weren’t there with him and he knew he needed to find them, because the only logical reason for them to leave him behind was because they thought he was gone. Thomas thought he was _dead_. Newt felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Thomas tormenting himself over his death. Was he blaming himself for it? Knowing him, he probably was and Newt couldn’t stand it. He had to find him, to find them all. 

Even though he knew he couldn’t do that by himself, he still didn’t trust the two boys that saved his life, not after he saw them wearing WICKED uniforms. They discarded them (and his own as well), during the days they had spent hidden in the small room, Newt remembered fairly well. 

It took him a while to finally trust them; it happened right after he listened to their story. 

Mike told him that yes, they did work for WICKED. Newt learned how the taller, muscular boy with dark skin and short black hair - James - had been a soldier for them while the youngest looking boy, much more slender than his friend and with deep circles under his almond shaped eyes, worked as a doctor for WICKED. 

They told him how their parents had been scientists for WICKED before they were even born and that was why they had known nothing but WICKED for all of their lives. Growing up, they had been taught that WICKED was good and that it was the only thing standing between them and the extinction of the human race, but they soon found out that those had been nothing but lies. When they learned about the Trials, when they acknowledged what was going on behind the walls of the Last City, they saw the truth and they decided they were done with WICKED, once and for all.

That was when they started sending messages to the people living outside and soon enough they found allies and connections with the people beyond the walls. To prove they were serious about their intentions Mike started replicating the experimental cure his team was working on, giving the vials to James that managed to deliver them to their contacts outside the city. They built their own little resistance from the inside of WICKED.

Newt listened to their story in complete silence, his brain piecing everything together and as it all made sense, he concluded that there was no reason for them to be lying. He could see it in their eyes as well, when they solemnly told him how they swore they would help anyone that WICKED had ever tormented.

And just like that, he started trusting them; the young doctor and the guard that decided to fight WICKED single handedly. After that, he told them his story as well and they promised him they would have helped him find his friends.

Now, after everything they did for him, he really wanted to give something back, so he couldn’t lose hope. He just couldn’t. In order to keep them going, he would tell them tales about himself and the Gladers, when they were still back in the Maze, happily unaware of the world outside the Walls. 

He would tell them all about the Glade, about Alby and Chuck and Winston and Ben and Clint and Jeff and Zart and all the others. He told them about Frypan and his wonderful stew; he told them about Gally and his moonshine; he told them all about Minho and the stupid things he did and said and he told them all about that crazy day when the box came up carrying a seemingly dead body of a girl. But mostly, he told them about Thomas, and although he didn’t really realize it, every time he did so, his lips would curl up in a soft smile and his eyes would shine brighter. He didn’t notice, but Mike and James did. 

“Hey Newt!” James called to him, harshly bringing him back to reality. He realized only in that moment that he had spaced out. Again. “Look over there!” 

James’ voice sounded high-pitched and very much alarmed. Newt barley had the time to notice that Mike’s face had turned a greener shade when James pointed at his back, even though there was absolutely no need to: the sky above their heads was still of a clear light blue, but it was impossible to miss the black clouds coming fast towards them. 

“ _Shit_.” He muttered under his breath. That piece of garbage had managed to get them where they were, but only because the waters had been calm and the wind favorable. Newt was sure it could _not_ survive a storm, and that was exactly what those black clouds looked like. 

“Shit!” He repeated, trying to think, and to do it fast. They were in the middle of the ocean, with no land to be seen. They were looking for some island they found in one of the maps, but the bloody thing didn’t seem to even exist and the nearest coast was an inhabited one, full of rocky cliffs: the risk to strand the boat was too high and they surely couldn’t risk losing their only way of transportation.

“What do we do now?” Mike was already starting to panic, his face getting greener by the minutes, and Newt couldn’t really blame him; even though the dark clouds were still behind them, they could already hear the roaring of thunders in the distance. The wind was growing in intensity as well and the waves were getting higher, making the small boat shake dangerously.

As the situation quickly escalated, Newt knew he had to take matters in his own hands.

“We just have to go on a little bit!” He said, trying to sound as matter-of-factly as he could. “Wait until we find a nice place to dock.”

“What?!” James shrieked. “What if we can’t find one! We are in the middle of the _freaking ocean_ , or did you miss that part?! And that storm is moving way faster than us!”

“I know,” Newt answered, trying to sound calm. “But we really don’t have any other choice, do we? We keep moving, keep looking. Good that?”

Newt could see that James wanted to protest but Mike pulled at his arm, signaling him to stop. The two boys fell silent and Newt kept on sailing, squinting his eyes against the growing wind and hoping to spot land.

Minutes went by, measured by the rumbles of thunders getting closer. After a while, they felt the first few raindrops fall on their heads; still, there was no land in sight, only vast and infinite stretches of turbulent water. 

The wind started  blowing stronger, making the boat oscillate tremendously until Newt felt water getting on board. The dark clouds finally reached them as rain started falling harder and the storm hit them with violent strength.

“The boat is going to overturn!” James screamed.

“We’re going to _die_!” Mike added optimistically.

“No, we won’t!” Newt answered. “We’re going to make it!” But he wasn’t so sure anymore. What kind of a sick joke was that? He couldn’t believe that life gave him another chance only for him die in the ocean on a smelly fishing boat. 

He struggled to keep said boat floating but he lost track of where he was heading as their small vessel was now being pushed around by the waves and the currents. He didn’t know how long he could have kept that up, though. In the end, the boat would have overturned and they would have either drowned or froze to death in the icy waters.

The situation was undoubtedly desperate. But then, when he felt like all hope was lost, he saw a faint light flickering in the distance.

He straightened his back, squinting his eyes, trying to see through the heavy rain and the gusts of wind, until he saw it again.

“There!” He shouted, his voice swallowed by the wind. His eyes were now glued to the light and he fought to keep them open even through wind and rain as he struggled to regain the command of the boat.

The light grew bigger as they got closer. Newt felt his eyes burn but he struggled to keep them open: he couldn’t lose that light. He knew he couldn’t, their life depended on it; and for the first time in so long, he could actually feel hope and he _knew_ , he just knew that that was the right way. He could feel it, somehow. That was not just a light. It was the light he’s been looking for. 

“Newt, careful!” Mike cried, but it was too late. Newt heard a terrible sound as the whole boat was jerked forward.

“What the bloody hell was that?” He demanded, but he kept his eyes on the gleaming light. 

“There are rocks!” James answered.

Mike’s voice was scared and it sounded like he was crying. “We’re going to crash!”

Newt struggled to keep the boat clear of the rocks but with the heavy rain he could barely see. The wind was now pushing them towards a barely visible coast, away from the source of light. Waves were almost overturning the boat, flooding the deck and soaking them wet.

“Hold on!” He screamed, but he could hear no answer. He just hoped that Mike and James were still onboard and had not fallen over. 

When they were a couple of miles from the coast, Newt felt a terrible crack.

“SHIT! We hit something!” He shouted, and suddenly he couldn’t feel a solid ground under his feet anymore. 

“We have to swim!” He turned around and saw his friends: they looked scared out of their skin and their faces glowed pale as a lightning bolt lit up the darkness of the night. The storm was infuriating now, with roaring thunder and lighting bolts and heavy rain.

“We have to swim, do you hear me?” He shouted, trying to sound confident but in reality feeling  just as much terror as the other boys. “We have to swim to that coast!”

James and Mike nodded. Newt took a deep breath, dreading what was to come.

“Follow me!” He screamed over the storm.

Newt dived out of the boat and could hear the others follow him soon after. He wished he could have had the time to recover some of their things but it was too late and the boat was already sinking down under the waves.

He started swimming in the icy water, pointedly ignoring his protesting leg and trying desperately not to drown as the waves grabbed at his wet clothes, trying to bring him down as well. He struggled until his feet finally hit a solid surface. 

“We made it! We bloody made it!” He shouted, his voice weak as he collapsed to the sand, trying to drag himself further up the shore. He stumbled to the ground, spitting out water and coughing, hands and knees on the sand. He turned around just in time to see Mike and James collapsing to the ground, coughing as well, definitely devastated but alive nonetheless. They helped each other up and moved away from the water as fast as they could. 

“There!” James shouted. “Let’s hide there!”

As he helped James drag Mike forward, Newt saw a long line of cliffs not too far away. They made their way towards them and found a small natural cave. They rushed in and Newt helped James sit Mike down before slumping to the ground himself, panting, trying to catch his breath.

“I can’t believe we made it!” James whispered, short of breath, chest moving fast. He had a hand running through his short hair and his eyes were wide open. “I can’t believe we’re _alive_!”

“Uh-uh…” Was Mike’s only comment. The boy was so pale it looked like he could have passed out any minute now. 

“Yeah. We’re okay. We made it.” Newt repeated, still bewildered himself. 

“But now we have no boat left.” James pointed out unhelpfully, his eyes glancing outside the small cave to the tempestuous ocean.

Newt stared out in the darkness as well, trying to spot the light again, but he couldn’t see it anymore. He knew it was out there though, he was sure of it.

“We might not need that bloody thing anymore.” He felt James’ glaring eyes on him but he didn’t look back. “I saw a light, right before crashing. I was trying to follow it.”

“Could have been anything.” This time, Newt turned to James. Did he really have to be so pessimistic right now?

“Well, I’m going to find out soon enough.” Newt declared as he started to get up but was immediately stopped by James’ stunned voice.

“What?” The boy sputtered.

“I’ll go and try to find the source of that light,” Newt answered. “So we will-” 

But James cut him off abruptly. “Are you insane?!” He just about screamed. “You’ll get lost out there! Haven’t you noticed that storm over there?! It’s freezing cold and it’s raining! And you don’t even know what’s out there!”

“I know, but…” Newt protested. He just couldn’t shake off that feeling he felt when he saw the light. He _needed_ to know.

“You can’t leave Newt!” James’ voice was a mixture between desperation and anger. “Look at Mike! He’s not okay.” 

Newt’s eyes turned to the other boy but even without looking at him he knew James was right. They were all soaking wet but Mike was trembling way more than the two of them, his teeth chattering almost painfully and his eyes wide and staring into space. He had a nasty cut on his cheek and his pale face was still greenish because of his heavy sea sickness. 

“We need to clean that cut and take care of him!” James insisted, his eyes almost pleading. As if to reiterate the truth of his words, a lightning bolt struck the ground  just outside of the cave.  

Newt bit his lip. He knew James was right, he _knew._ Besides, he owned this to them: he couldn’t just leave them when they most needed him, not after everything they did for him. 

He sat back down reluctantly and reached for Mike’s medical bag. It was the only thing they managed to save from the boat and only because Mike never took it off. The other things - supplies, maps, food - were all gone. 

Newt helped James clean Mike’s wound and then they covered him up as best as they could. James cuddled up next to him.

“You should try and get some sleep.” Newt suggested, looking over the two boys. James nodded and was already dozing off a couple of minutes later, trembling slightly against Mike’s back. 

Newt couldn’t sleep though. He remained seated, his back against the hard surface of the cave, with his legs up to his chest, his arms around them and his chin propped on his knees. 

He knew he should have at least tried to get a couple hours of sleep - he desperately needed to - but his eyes just wouldn’t fell close and he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that he should go out there and find the source of that light.

He knew he shouldn’t have hoped, that it was probably stupid to do so, but he just couldn’t help it. After all, they hadn’t encountered any living being since they departed; could it really be an accident that they reached that place, that same night?

He kept on staring at the dark clouds moving fast. The lightning was far away now, and both the rain and the wind had finally calmed down. As the storm passed, stars started peeking out from behind the clouds and Newt stared in awe. 

He wondered if whoever was on that island was staring up at the stars, as well.

 

* * *

 

On the other side of the island, someone was indeed looking up at the same stars.

Thomas was feeling strange, like some sort of nervous energy was in the air. He blamed it on the storm - it was the first one they had since they settled in Safe Haven. Sure, it had rained a couple of times, but never quite like that. It reminded him of the storms in the Scorch, with threatening black clouds and lightning illuminating the night. The intimidating waves were something unique to that place though, and entirely new to Thomas; he had been staring at them for a long time, sheltered next to the covered fire they miraculously managed to keep up. That was, until Vince forced him to go back to his cot and get some sleep

He remained wide awake even after that though, sitting on his bed and staring out the small window, his eyes anchored on the stormy clouds slowly fading away to reveal a beautiful night sky. 

Even though that vision should have calmed him, he was still feeling agitated. 

The watchers said they had spotted something in the ocean while the storm infuriated, but then retorted that it was probably nothing, only the waves playing tricks on them, but he just couldn’t erase that thought from his mind, for some reason. Was there someone out there, in the storm? Was it even possible?

After a night of restless sleep, he woke up sooner than the others, as usual, and decided to go take a look, since the rising sun was shining and the storm was all gone. 

He left his boots outside the cot and he started feeling better the moment his bare feet touched the wet sand and lazy waves caressed his skin. He felt the familiar weight of his necklace close to his chest and he started walking, his eyes on the ocean, trying to spot something, anything that could explain his agitation, but the line of the horizon was perfectly clear and the ocean seemed rather peaceful. The quietness of the morning was only disturbed by a flock of seagulls passing by.

Thomas kept on walking still, unable to shake off that feeling.

 

* * *

 

That morning Newt got out of their hiding place and looked up at the sky: it was light blue and so perfectly clear. There was not even a single cloud, unlike the night before. The storm had vanished like it had never even happened.

The sun was just starting to rise, painting the ocean in wonderful, dreamlike colours. He had never seen something so beautiful in his entire life. Well, not that he could remember anyway. Sunrises and sunsets weren’t really a thing in the Maze and in the Scorch, all he could see was the infinite expanses of sand and mountains. In his time as a fugitive he had lived in hiding, planning rescuing missions in badly lit rooms. He was stunned when he saw the Last City, with its tall buildings and the flickering lights fighting off the darkness of the night, but that was all artificial. This, on the other hand… this was nature, just nature in its purest form.

He glanced back at his companions. Mike was still shivering but he looked much better than the night before. James had wrapped him in his jacket that managed to dry up just a little bit during the night.

“Just try to keep him warm.” Newt recommended. “I’ll go see if someone’s out there, all right?”

James nodded, but looked concerned nonetheless. He didn’t try to stop him this time, though. “Newt, just… be careful. We don’t know what’s out there.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be all right.” He answered, giving him a reassuring smile. Or so he hoped. The truth was, he felt strangely sure of it. 

He started towards the ocean, leaving his soaked shoes and socks at the cave so his feet were colliding with the sand. When he reached the ocean the water was cold, but he didn’t mind it. He could spot small shells just underneath the surface of the now perfectly still water. The storm from the previous night had brought seaweeds to the shore and, not too far away, the remains of their boat as well. It seemed impossible that that thing would have been able to sail again, but just like the night before, Newt wasn’t really concerned about it

Then, with a strange feeling - a mixture of excitement and fear - he turned right and started walking.

 

* * *

  

Thomas walked until the camp wasn’t visible anymore, finding nothing unusual. For some reason, he felt disappointed. He was so _sure_ he would have found something. He didn’t even know what and he couldn’t explain why it felt so important… it just did. But apparently, he was wrong.

He was just about to turn around and head back to camp, already anticipating Minho’s scolding glare because he wandered off by himself once again, but he stopped abruptly. 

He had been walking for a while, but now he was feeling strange. His heart started pounding faster for no apparent reason and he felt like he was having a panic attack. He started to feel his legs shacking and his knees were going weak. _But why_ , he thought, confused.

Thomas had been so occupied with staring at the ocean and the shore that he didn’t even notice the motionless figure staring back at him from far away.

When a sense of vertigo hit him, Thomas turned around. 

And then, he saw it: a dark silhouette, coming slowly towards him from the other side of the island. It surely couldn’t be anyone from camp. 

Thomas’ eyes were foggy due to the sun finally rising out from behind the sand dunes and the dizziness he felt before still prevented him from seeing clearly. He couldn’t make out who was approaching.

Was it someone hostile? Did he have to run? Why didn’t he bring a gun with him? But then again, why would he? They didn’t need to defend themselves in the Safe Haven, there were supposed to be no dangers there; so why were his legs shaking like that?

The person was getting closer now, moving faster after every step. Thomas shielded his eyes, desperately trying to see. The person was running now, in a strange, almost limping pace. 

“Who’s there?” He demanded, but his voice came out croaky and hoarse. 

The person was only a few feet away when it stopped. Thomas dropped his arm, breathing heavily. He squinted his eyes and suddenly… he could see.

And he saw _him_. It was surely, undoubtedly him.

There and then Thomas knew he had lost his mind. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words left his throat. He then realized he was grasping for air, as though it had been sucked out of his lungs. His vision became blurry again and he felt stinging tears in the back of his eyes.

It was _him_ , and he was as perfect as he remembered him from the time of the Glade: his skin was clear and pale, not cracked open and covered in black veins; and he couldn’t see his eyes but he was sure they were their usual warm, amber brown and not red and bloodshot as they had been that day, in the Last City. 

Thomas felt his knees finally giving in and he collapsed to the ground. He didn’t even notice he started crying.

“No, no, no, _no_ …” He whispered to himself, cradling his face between his hands as tears rolled down his cheeks and between his shaky fingers. 

He hated himself, he hated his mind. Why did it have to torture him like that, with such a perfect vision that wasn't _real_. Almost a month had passed and it still tormented him like that.

In his delirious state, he felt soft steps coming closer. 

“Tommy…”

Tears escaped his eyes even faster as his body shook with sobs, because that voice… that name was the last word he heard him say and this was too cruel, too painful. Even for a nightmare. Even for him.

“Tommy.” The voice repeated, this time with more confidence.

“No. This is not real. It’s not real.” Thomas mumbled to himself, between shaky breaths.

“Of course it’s bloody real, Tommy.” This time his voice came out cracked as well, as if he was struggling to hold back tears too. 

But this couldn’t be… it couldn’t be. It was a nightmare, just another nightmare. For some strange reasons he must have passed out when he felt that sense of vertigo. He fainted and he was now having yet another nightmare. Maybe he was dying. Yeah, that was probably it.

“No. _No_.” He repeated nonetheless. “You died. I - I… saw you die. I _saw you_.” He cried out, and the pain felt too real for this to be a dream. “I killed you… it was all my fault and you _died_.”

Thomas heard a suffocated gasp and a moment later the knees of the other boy hit the sand just in front of him. The brunette was crying, his shoulders shaking almost painfully, when suddenly he felt a hesitant hand settling on his arm.

“Tommy.” The boy whispered, and he sounded so close now. He was crying too but his voice was determined. “Tommy, look at me.”

Thomas shook his head. He couldn’t…  he knew if he did so the illusion would disappear and maybe he would have seen Newt the way he was before he killed him. Maybe his hallucination would start yelling at him, blaming him just like it always happened in his nightmares, and he knew deep inside that his heart couldn’t take it. 

The hand on his arm moved up to his shoulder and to his neck, till trembling fingers landed on his own hand, on his wet cheek. Oh, they felt so _real_. But they weren’t. They couldn’t be.

“Tommy. Oh, Tommy. Please, look at me.” The boy pleaded. 

Thomas breathed out an unsteady breath, his eyes burning with tears, but he couldn’t force himself not to listen to that voice, _his_ voice. It sounded _so real_.

He lowered his hands and looked up slowly, through wet eyelashes, until he finally saw him.

The light of the rising sun was bathing his wild golden hair in a soft, almost dreamlike light and his eyes were as damp and filled with tears as his own, but they were so warm and sparkly. His lips were quivering but he was… yes, he was definitely _smiling_. He was grinning down at him and that sight sent a wave of emotions through Thomas’ whole body, making him shiver all the more. The boy’s eyes were glistening with a light that held the power of the sun and the stars and the whole universe. They were the eyes he remembered, so beautiful and full of hope and _life_. 

“N-newt.” He stuttered through quivery breaths. “How… this… this isn’t true, is it?”

“Tommy, it is true, I swear, _I_ _bloody swear_.”  He cupped Thomas’ face with both of his hands, wiping away the tears that were still falling from his eyes and he was _there_ , there was no way he could imagine all of that, no way at all.

“Newt…” Thomas exclaimed, his eyes clearing abruptly. It was him. He had no idea how that was possible, but _it was him_. “NEWT!”

He didn’t even notice he had practically yelled, but the realization that it was truly him had dawned on him then, releasing a rush of adrenaline throughout his whole body. He didn’t know _how_ , but it was him, it was Newt, it was _his_ Newt, in the sand in front him, it wasn’t a dream, he couldn’t imagine all of that in a dream, it was him and he was _alive_ and crying and grinning down at him.

He flung himself forward almost knocking Newt down as he threw his arms around his body, pulling him in his embrace, holding him tight, as if he was afraid that if he let go just a tiny bit the boy would dissolve before his eyes.

Tears rolled down Thomas’ eyes right into Newt’s hair and neck, soaking his shirt, but he _didn’t care_. He inhaled deeply, taking in Newt’s smell - the smell of sand and salt water and sweat and something so reassuringly familiar. He buried his face in the crook of Newt’s neck and he cried, he cried for so long, but Newt never pushed him away, he held on to him with just as much strength. Thomas hadn’t even realized it but he was repeating a single word and it was Newt’s name, over and over again, like a mantra.

“It’s okay Tommy.” Newt reassured him, holding him tight, his hands moving soothingly on his back, even though Thomas could feel he was shaking, too. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m right here, Tommy. It’s okay.” 

Even though he was crying as well, Thomas could almost hear the smile in his voice and he smiled too, lips pressed on the soft skin of Newt’s shoulder.

“I’m not leaving you, Tommy.” Newt promised, his lips so close to Thomas’ ear while his hand caressed his neck right before sinking into his hair, fingers intertwining with his dark locks.

“Newt…” He whispered once again, trying to steady his voice. 

At some point, they were both crying and laughing at the same time, still holding on to one another tightly, savoring that moment neither of them believed to be possible anymore; and they stayed like that for a long time, till the sun was high up in the sky.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well first of all, I'd like to thank anyone that left kudos, comments or that just read or bookmarked this story, either here or on tumblr: you may not know this, but it means _the world_ to me! Honestly, I feel so overwhelmed by the fact that people actually liked this story???? And I really hope you enjoyed this second chapter as well!
> 
> A fact: it was actually much longer that this but i ended up cutting it and leaving some things for chapter three..... The next chapter will feature Newt and Thomas dealing with what happened That Day aaaand more reunions and lots of feels! And prepare for Newtmas cuteness! Woah, I can't wait!
> 
> Shoutout to the wonderful Rachel ([@luminousnewt](http://luminousnewt.tumblr.com) on tumblr) for being my beta: I love you so much, thank your for everything you do! 
> 
> As usual, feel free to leave comments, kudos, constructive criticism and suggestions! I should be able to update soon cause a big part of chapter three is already done! In the meantime, you can find me on tumblr [@newtmazing](http://newtmazing.tumblr.com) fangirling about tmr and newtmas and stuff! Please feel free to join me anytime! 
> 
> Thank you again for reading this & lots of love!


	3. Feels Like Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They sat down on the sand as soft waves wetted their bare feet. The ocean was so calm and peaceful that day, Newt couldn’t take his eyes away from it. It was beautiful - nothing at all like what they had encountered the previous night.  
> And as Newt stared at the ocean, Thomas stared at him, unable to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Previously:** _Newt didn't die in the Last City. With the help of the two boys that saved his life, he embarks on a mission to find Safe Haven, to find his friends... to find Thomas. Almost losing his hope after a terrible storm crashes them on a seemingly abandoned island, Newt finally finds exactly what he was looking for._
> 
> The third chapter is finally here! I know it's been so long and i'm really sorry! I hope you'll forgive me after this kinda long chapter (it's 20k characters or something like that) that features lots of newtmas (i know, you didn't see that coming, ah!), lots of feels, more feels and did i mention feels? And oh, more reunions! Enjoy!

It felt like forever since Newt had seen Thomas walking on the beach towards him, like time stopped the moment their eyes connected. They probably would have stayed like that forever, enlaced in that desperate yet hopeful embrace, had it not been for the sound of someone clearing their throat, bringing them harshly back to reality.

The two boys jumped in alarm, turning quickly to look behind them and it was then that Newt found himself staring at James and Mike, the latter looking far better than before.

Newt stared at them through wet eyes, his arms still around Thomas’ shoulders while the boy’s grip on his waist tightened. He stared at them with a stunned expression, as if he didn’t recognize them, and he realized that for a moment he forgot they even existed. He felt ashamed of that, really, but when his eyes had finally spotted Tommy, his Tommy, walking on the beach towards him… right then everything else seemed irrelevant.

Newt jumped to his feet, dragging Thomas up with him. He noted that the boy had his eyebrows furrowed in a confused expression and was staring at the two strangers with wary eyes, sniffling and wiping away his tears. It didn’t escape Newt’s attention that, the moment they got back up, Thomas stepped forward protectively, his hand still on Newt’s upper arm, dragging him back to put himself between Newt and the two boys. Newt wondered if he did it without noticing; he didn’t want to admit it, but his heart melted just a tiny bit at the gesture. Bloody hell, he had missed Thomas _so much_.

He forced himself to drag his eyes away from Thomas to look back at his very confused friends. They were staring between Newt and the other boy, probably wondering who he was and why they were hugging like that. 

“Mike, James,” Newt greeted, realizing his voice was still hoarse from crying. He cleared his throat and mustered a smile; it was wonderfully easy to do so, since _Thomas_ was at his side, alive and well and _real._

“This is Thomas,” Newt announced, moving to the boy’s side, squeezing his upper arm to signal him that it was okay and that they were not a threat. In that same moment, Newt noticed a spark of understanding in his two friends’ eyes. He smiled at them before looking back at Thomas. “I told you I could find him.”

Mike and James stared at Thomas then, eyes still wide from the surprise and mouth agape from the incredulity.

“This is… this is Thomas?” Mike asked, unable to hide his bewilderment. Newt didn’t know that, but Mike and James were just putting the pieces together: from the way he and Thomas were holding onto each other before they arrived, to the way Thomas had stepped protectively in front of Newt, staring at them with a threatening glare. And they surely remembered the way Newt’s eyes shone whenever he talked about Thomas and his determination in wanting to find him. Not to mention the fact that it was _his_ name Newt kept on repeating in his sleep.

Thomas was still staring at the two boys with a suspicious look. “And you are?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, his muscles still tense despite Newt’s words.

“Oh, I’m Mike. And this is James.” Mike said pointing to his friend, as James waved awkwardly; they were both clearly unsure of what to do next.

“They’re the ones that saved my life,” Newt said and this was enough.

Thomas looked at him then, and his expression changed completely; the suspicious look now completely gone from his face as he put the pieces together. When Thomas looked back towards the boys his face opened up with a big smile and he stepped forward, offering his hand to them both, shaking theirs with enthusiasm.

“Well then, I’m very glad to meet you.” He exclaimed before going back to Newt’s side.

“Likewise,” Mike said, and both he and James looked clearly relieved by Thomas’ acceptance. “Newt told us all about you.”

“Oh, did he?” Thomas looked back at Newt with a big grin on his face.

“Only the good stuff Tommy, I promise,” Newt said, smirking. He locked eyes with Thomas, and just like before, everything else around them seemed to melt away as they smiled at one another. Until Mike spoke again.

“So… um… that’s great. I can’t believe we crashed on their island. Wow.” Mike stammered, almost talking to himself. “I guess we… um… we should go back to gather our things then?” He sputtered, still glancing between Newt and Thomas, and to Newt’s amusement he looked as shocked as he himself felt.

“Yeah,” James agreed, already stepping backward, tugging Mike along. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” Newt said, and if Mike and James’ expressions were anything to go by, they only wanted to give the two of them some privacy.

“Yes,” Thomas added. “We’ll meet you guys back here so we can make our way to camp.”

The two boys nodded and turned around, making their way back to where they had taken shelter the previous night. Newt kept his eyes on them as they walked away, his mind running like crazy.

 _I can’t believe we crashed on their island_ , Mike had said. Yes, he couldn’t quite believe that himself. Or could he? When he had seen that faint light barely managing to break through the dark storm clouds, a part of him just knew that it was the right way, like a beacon calling out to him, helping guide him back home.

He felt Thomas’ eyes on his back so he turned around, their eyes locking immediately, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. The journey he had embarked on to reunite with his friends, with _Thomas_ , could have taken him anywhere; there had been so many possible routes he could have taken which would have led him far away, yet somehow, despite the odds and endless challenges, they had found one another again.

He knew that Thomas was thinking the same thing at that very moment; he could see the incredulity and the hundreds of questions in the back of his big brown eyes.

But since the moment he woke up surrounded by the smoke of the burning city, Newt had known that he could find Thomas and the others. Of course, there was always the possibility that not all of them made it back from the Last City, but Newt had always brushed that thought away. He just knew they did, deep inside. But Thomas didn’t know _he had made it too_. He couldn’t know.

Memories of that day came rushing back, but Newt brushed them off immediately. _Not now_ , he thought. He could see in Thomas’ eyes that he was remembering as well, and Newt was sure that he had blamed himself for everything that happened.

“You’re here,” Thomas whispered. “You’re _really here._ ” Despite the fact that his voice was still quivering, the smile on his face was one the most beautiful things Newt had ever seen. 

“I’m here,” Newt confirmed, wiping away the remaining tears from his eyes.

They stared at each other in silence for another while, taking the other in. The morning light hitThomas’ features just right, illuminating his pale face and making his eyes shine brighter than the sun while he stared at him, still in awe.

Thomas was… he was just as he remembered him but at the same time, he wasn’t. He was still the same boy that came up in the box a long time ago, the same boy he cared so much for, but he couldn’t deny that he had changed during that span of time spent apart. His dark brown hair looked longer and messier, his pale skin was tanned by the sun and even though he was still muscular, he somehow looked thinner, worn down. Although he wasn’t running for his life anymore, he still looked tired, with dark circles under his big brown eyes; those same eyes seemed to hide more pain and guilt than it was possible. But his smile, his smile was just as sweet and innocent as it used to be.

Newt felt the need to look away then, overwhelmed by his feelings. He _hated_ the fact that he had been the cause of some of the guilt and pain which he had seen in Thomas' eyes. He felt tears stinging at the back of his eyes, but he didn’t want Thomas to think he wasn’t okay. He was. In fact, he hadn’t been happier in a very long time; he just wasn’t sure he could find the words to describe what he was feeling, even though he was sure Thomas could understand him just fine.

“You think…” he started, staring at the peaceful ocean ahead, trying to keep his voice steady, trying to keep his feelings at bay. “Do you think we can stay here for a moment? Just… just sit down and…”

“Of course,” Thomas answered immediately.

He led him towards the shore and his hand brushed against Newt’s ever so slightly. They sat down on the sand as soft waves wetted their bare feet. The ocean was so calm and peaceful that day, the sound of the waves was the only audible one and Newt couldn’t take his eyes away from it. It was beautiful - nothing at all like what they had encountered the previous night.

And as Newt stared at the ocean, Thomas stared at him, unable to look away.

Was Thomas still wondering whether it was all real or not? He probably was. Newt was sure _he_ was. Thomas had been mourning him for over _a month_ , he probably thought he’d killed him, and now he _was there._ Newt couldn’t begin to imagine how Thomas was feeling in that moment.

Newt turned around, his eyes connecting with Thomas’, and he was sure then that he was in fact still questioning whether it was all real or not. Without thinking about it, he reached out his hand until his fingers brushed Thomas’. The boy turned his hand upwards, grasping Newt’s, fingers intertwining. Newt felt his heart jolt.

“You’re here…” Thomas whispered once again, almost to himself.

Newt smiled, but soon after that he started to notice a change in Thomas’ composure. Suddenly, his shoulders slumped downwards, his eyes got watery again and the expression on his face went from incredulity to sadness. Newt was sure he knew exactly what was going on in his mind.

“How… how are you here, Newt?” Thomas asked, his voice broken. “How’s that even possible?”

Newt didn’t answer right away though; he tightened his grasp on Thomas’ hand and waited for him to look back up at him. When Thomas finally did, his eyes were glistening with tears and so, so sad.

“Tommy,” He started, his voice now steady and deadly serious. “Get that guilty look out of your face _right now._ ”

“I…” Thomas stammered, taken aback by Newt’s words.

“No. I mean it. I don’t want you to feel guilty, all right?” Newt wasn’t so naive as to believe that that would be enough for Thomas to accept, but he wasn’t ready to have that conversation, not yet. He only wanted Thomas to be happy. Everything would be okay, they just needed time. Time to adjust, time to heal.

He knew Thomas deserved to know however, so he kept their eyes locked as he took in a deep breath.

“Mike and James found me.” He said after a while, diverting his gaze out towards the ocean. The cold water felt so good against his bad leg. “They found me and… and they saved me. I don’t really know what they did but they… they brought me back, somehow.” Newt paused for a moment. It was the first time he talked about that out loud.

He gulped down nervously. Talking about it, saying those words… it made everything seem so real. It _was_ real, of course, and even just thinking about it felt overwhelming for him. But talking about it… well, it made the reality of it all feel way too heavy. He gathered his courage nonetheless and he resumed talking.  

“They took care of me ever since. They helped me get here.” His voice softened as he looked back at Thomas; the brunette’s eyes never left his side. “They helped me get back to _you_.”

Thomas’ lower lip quivered at his last sentence as if he was struggling hard not to cry. He lowered his eyes as a single tear escaped, rolling down his cheek, and Newt couldn’t hold back a thin smile as he moved his free hand to cup Thomas’ face, his thumb brushing away the lonely tear.

“Tommy, look at me.” He demanded. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t. Just… just don’t, okay? I’m here, this is real. And that’s all that matters, all right?”

Thomas smiled through watery eyes, but he nodded. His hand flew to the top of Newt’s one on his cheek as if he needed to make sure, for the umpteenth time, that it was not a dream.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. You’re right, you’re here.” He said, his eyes never leaving Newt. “That’s all that matters.”

They remained silent for a while, eyes intertwined, until Newt turned to the ocean again, overwhelmed by everything that he was feeling. He didn’t survive all of that only for his heart to explode under the weight of Thomas’ eyes.

“So,” He started, clearing his throat as his hand fell back to his side. “You mentioned a camp, didn't you?”

Thomas nodded, recomposing himself, and Newt was grateful to talk about something else, at least for the moment. He wasn’t sure he was ready to relive that day, not yet. For the time being, he only wanted to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, only wanted to relish the thought that Thomas was actually there with him. 

“Yes!” Thomas exclaimed enthusiastically. “I can’t wait for you to see it!”

“Me too.” Newt smiled softly before turning serious again. There was a question he’d been wanting to ask but dreaded to at the same time.

“So…” he started, voice hesitant. “This means… did everyone make it back?”

It took a moment for Thomas to answer and that small hesitation almost gave Newt a panic attack. “Yes,” Thomas finally said. “We all did. Minho and Frypan and all the others.”

Newt started to breathe again. “I’m glad to hear that, Tommy. I’m bloody glad.”

And he really was, even though he still felt like Thomas was keeping something from him; but as Thomas chuckled at his words he pushed that thought away. All Newt cared about was that his friends were okay, that Thomas was there with him and that he actually _made it_ , despite everything he went through. He never felt so wonderfully, utterly _happy_ in his entire life. And sure, that wasn’t saying much, since he couldn’t remember most of it, but somehow he was certain he never felt like that, ever.

Newt could sense Thomas’ eyes on him again, and when he turned to face him his expression was something entirely new. He was studying him, but not quite like before. He was not trying to understand whether he was real or not, and he wasn’t even trying to figure out _how_ he was there, either. He was staring at him like he was trying to decide something important and Newt felt his heart starting to beat faster. Thomas’ lips opened just a tiny bit as he took in a deep breath and Newt could see he was about to say something… but right at that moment Mike and James came back. Newt’s eyes shifted towards them and Thomas turned around, following his gaze. Newt just knew then that the moment had passed; he wondered if it had been real or if he had imagined it.

Thomas looked back at Newt then, a wide smile on his face. “We should probably go now.”

Newt nodded and Thomas got up, extending his hand to help him up too. Newt took it gladly.

“I can’t wait to see their faces when they see you!” Thomas said, grinning brightly. All of the sadness and the guilt gone from his face. _For now_ ; the thought briefly occurred in Newt's mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. He smiled too, in anticipation.

“Well, if they’ll all look like yours…” He said, smirking back at him. “Let’s just say it will be quite a show, you shank.”

Thomas burst out laughing at that, and jokingly punched him in the arm, but as his hand brushed against Newt’s the two stopped moving, eyes connecting. Newt took Thomas’ hand in his own and squeezed lightly. Thomas squeezed back.

Smiling, they joined Mike and James and together they started walking towards camp, still holding hands.

* * *

Newt felt strangely agitated as they headed towards the camp. He didn’t really understand why; of course he wanted to see all of his friends again. He wanted to see Minho so desperately, and Frypan and even that shuck-face Gally, but at the same time he didn’t want to see the same pain and guilt he saw in Thomas’ eyes.

He glanced sideways at the boy walking at his side and his heart jolted just a tiny bit at the sight of their intertwined hands. He still couldn’t believe they’ve found each other. Newt never really believed in fate, but what else could he call that series of events that led him to find exactly the person he so desperately wanted to find?

Thomas must have felt his staring eyes because he looked up at him, a half grin on his face. He must have sensed his distress as well, because he squeezed his hand again, stroking the back with his thumb.

“Hey. It’ll be alright.” He said reassuringly.

Newt smiled at him. “I know.”

Mike and James walked only a couple of steps behind them; if they found it weird that Thomas and Newt were holding hands, they didn’t show it.

Actually, Newt didn’t know _why_ they were holding hands. They'd never done so before. It was something none of the Gladers had done, not even Chuckie, but he was glad they were doing it now; it was like some sort of strength flood through Thomas right into Newt just from their intertwined fingers. Besides, it felt like a reassurance they both still needed: through that touch, they knew that the other was there, that they were not imagining it all.

After walking for a while in complete silence, Newt finally spotted the old and rusty ship and he felt his heart rate begin to rise. _So close. Just after that dune._

After that dune, he would find his friends, his family, his old life, or what came close to it. He would find the future he thought he could never have, the life he had been ready to give up if it only meant he could save his friends.

Thomas squeezed his hand once more, smiling down at him. “Almost there. You’ll see…” They passed the dune, and Newt had to stop to take it all in.

Safe Haven, that’s what Thomas told him they named the place. Newt couldn’t have thought of a better name.

The camp stood close to the beach, nested on a patch of bright green grass and surrounded by sand dunes. Not too far away, a long series of white cliffs towered over the landscape, their tops covered in grass and patches of colorful flowers and a luxuriant forest stood just behind the vast meadows.

Dozen of tents were scattered ordinarily throughout the whole surface of the sand and smoke came out from some of them. Although they weren’t that close yet, Newt thought he could smell the scent of familiar food in the air.

Even though all of that was amazing in itself, Newt thought that the best thing was the fact that the camp was bustling with _life_. People were everywhere, chatting, eating, laughing and working. All of them, all working together, building their new world.

Newt felt his anxiety fade away as fast as it came as his lips turned up in a broad, beaming smile. “This… this is wonderful.” He breathed out so softly that only Thomas could hear him. He was looking at Newt’s awed expressions with a soft and knowing smile on his lips.

And it really was wonderful. During their months planning Minho’s rescuing, he had tried to imagine what that safe place would look like. He always thought there was a place out there for them, far away from the horrors of WICKED, but nothing he ever came up with could compare to the reality. All that bustling life after the destruction and death they’ve been subjected to for so long felt foreign to him like such normality belonged to another lifetime, a life hebarely had memories of. And after everything he’d been through, he felt blessed to have the chance to actually see that place, possibly be a part of it.

As they started moving towards camp, his eyes landed on a big central area, where a bonfire was set off and where long tables and benches were scattered out on the open or underneath peculiar canvas roofs.

There were a lot of people gathered there but his eyes found a familiar silhouette, with unmistakable black hair, and he stopped abruptly, eyes locking on that person as his heart skipped a beat. They were so close now he could even hear his voice.

“I wonder where that shank disappeared to,” Minho exclaimed, clearly annoyed. “He always does this, but not for this long. When he comes back, I swear I’ll…”

But Sonya and Harriet, whom he was talking with, stopped listening to him as they spotted Thomas and the other boys approaching. Sonya abruptly interrupted Minho mid-sentence and Newt couldn’t hear what he would have done to Thomas once he came back.

“Look! Over there!” She gasped, pointing her finger towards the small group that was coming closer.

Minho turned around then, his eyes a mixture of confusion and annoyance, and time seemed to slow down. Newt held his breath as Minho spotted Thomas, his lips parted and ready to scold him… until he saw Newt.

Minho’s lips remained parted as he froze in the spot, staring at him in utter and complete shock. In a moment all the activity and the voices died down and silence fell on the camp. Everyone was staring at Newt now, but his eyes remained fixed on Minho.

After moments of stunned silence, Minho moved a couple of hesitant steps forward. His eyes were wide open with disbelief, his lips were still parted and although they were moving no words came out. It was so uncharacteristic of Minho, and Newt almost laughed.

“Well,” He started, breaking the silence which hung in the air between them, smiling brightly. “I never bloody thought I could make you speechless, Minho.”

Newt could hear whispers all around him and voices full of surprise but he kept his focus on Minho, until his friend seemed to finally fell out of his trance, as if Newt’s words had slapped him back to reality.

Minho rushed forward and, being a Runner, it took him hardly a second to reach Newt and throw himself at him, knocking the air out of his lungs with a fierce and desperate embrace.

Newt could hear him speak some incomprehensible words and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing wholeheartedly, embracing him with just as much strength. Newt was sure from the way his best friend’s back was shaking that Minho was crying. Minho, the boy who never, ever cried, broke out sobbing in front of everyone as he held Newt tightly.

Newt couldn’t tell how long they remained like that, just laughing and crying, but after a while he caught a glimpse of someone coming closer in full speed and in seconds Frypan was crashing on them, enveloping them both in a fierce bear hug, crying and screaming incoherent things as well.

“Ouch, careful Fry!” Newt protested jokingly. “You’re going to crush me!”

But the other boy just snorted and held both of his friends tightly. They stayed like that for a long time, just crying and laughing and holding each other, not caring about the audience that stared at them, speechless.

When they broke the hug, Frypan left his arms slugged on Newt’s and Minho’s shoulders, grinning widely, while Minho kept a grasp on Newt’s arm, as if he didn’t want to risk losing him somehow, if he let go.

Newt scanned the crowd looking for Thomas and when he finally found him he was staring at them with tears glistening in his big brown eyes. As their eyes met, Thomas walked towards them and joined the hug.

“Look at us,” Thomas said through happy sobs. “The mighty Gladers, back together again.” This elicited other fond laughs and watery looks from the other boys.

“It’s you,” Minho whispered, almost to himself. He wiped away the remaining tears, already regaining his composure. His lips were turned in the biggest grin Newt had ever seen on his face, and this was saying something. “It’s really you.”

“Yes. It’s me, Minho.” He smiled back at the boy and he was sure now that he had never felt this happy in his entire life.

“Well, if this isn’t the cheesiest of moments!”

The four boys turned towards the crowd to find Brenda standing only a few feet away, her cherry lips turned up in a big smile. She opened her arms and made her way towards the other boys, reaching for Newt and hugging him enthusiastically. When she broke away from the embrace, she as well had tears in her eyes.

The next one to step closer was Gally, even though he did so hesitantly.

“Hey.” He said, looking at Newt with his eyes lowered as if he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to be a part of that. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” He sputtered out, with the tiniest of smiles on his lips.

After a moment of silence, they all burst out laughing at his harsh words and Gally opened up in a big smile.

“Well, thank you mate!” Newt exclaimed, and now the tears in eyes were from laughing too hard.

And after Gally, came all the others.

Jorge wrapped him in a strong hug, calling him _hermano_ at least ten times and patting his back with a lot of enthusiasm. The next ones were Aris, Sonya, and Harriet; they all hugged him tightly, telling him they were glad he was okay. Then came Vince, that told him he was glad to see him again and looking well. And then Newt found himself shaking hands and hugging and thanking people he only knew from sight or nothing at all, but he didn’t care, he was just too happy.

He could sense his friends’ eyes on him and he turned around to meet them. Between sobs and fond smiles, he realised that they all looked older now, somehow wiser, but nevertheless they were still the same old Gladers, the same old friends he used to know and that made him smile even brighter because it was all real. He really made it, he really found his way back to his friends. To his family.

In that moment, he really felt home again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! I hope you liked this chapter and that it made up for the long wait! I'd like to thank everyone that stuck around and a big thank you goes to all of you lovely people that read this and left kudos, comments and bookmarks! Lots of thanks to all of the wonderful people that supported me here and on tumblr, you mean _THE WORLD_ to me and i'll never be able to express how grateful i am!
> 
> Also, a big shout-out to Bridge aka [@harveylovesmike](https://harveylovesmike.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this! You are so kind, smart and talented, you're a real life muse (even tho you have kinda of an obsession with angsty things, that is)! Thank you so very much for taking time out of your life to help me out, i'll never thank you enough for this, really <3 
> 
> Again, I really hope you liked this chapter! Newt is finally reunited with his friends & family! And Thomas of course! For the next one, you can expect lots of feels, explanations and our babies being happy, alive and... well, you'll see!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, suggestions & constructive criticisms here or on my mess of a tumblr blog [@newtmazing](https://newtmazing.tumblr.com)! Please feel free to talk to me anytime! ;)
> 
> Thank you again for waiting and reading this! LOVE YOU ALL!


	4. Back Where we Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thank you, Tommy." Newt said after a while, voice soft and fading.  
> "For what?" Thomas asked, taken aback.  
> It took a moment for Newt to answer. "For everything. For saving me."  
> "But I… I didn't…" Thomas murmured, his heart clenching.  
> "Yes," Newt repeated, firmly. "Yes, you did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two warnings for this chapter: 1) this is un-beta’d (is this even a word???) so I apologize in advance for the lots of mistakes (please do feel free to point them out!) and 2) this is very self-indulgent and probably defies the laws of science and medicine but OH WELL! We deserve happiness am I right? I hope you’ll enjoy this and also! Happy TDC first anniversary!!! I know I’m a couple of days late but still! Can’t believe it’s been a whole year already, I'm so emotional! :’)

Thomas felt surreal as he watched every single person at camp greeting Newt. Everyone - even the people that hadn't known him before - was smiling at him and talking to him, shaking his hand. Meanwhile, Newt's story was whispered around from one person to another.

It was only after every single person at camp greeted Newt that they moved to the biggest structure they managed to build yet, the one they used as a council room - and as an emergency room as well when needed. Newt was seated on one of the many wooden benches with Thomas at his left and Minho at his right. All the others - Frypan, Brenda, Gally, Jorge, and Vince - were staring at him, some of them still wide-eyed. Mike and James were there as well, standing a little apart from the others, looking around awkwardly. Thomas couldn't help but think about the gatherings they used to have in the Glade.

"So," Vince started as the voices quieted down in the room. "I'm glad to see you again, kid. I really am," The man said with a gentle smile before turning serious. "But I'm going to need you to tell me what happened. How is this even possible? Weren't you turning… "

He left the phrase hanging as if he was afraid of even pronouncing that word.

"Into a crank, yes.” Newt finished for him and Thomas glanced at his friend, feeling his heart clench at his words. He desperately wanted to draw him in for a hug or to take his hand in his own just like he did before, but even if he _really_ wanted to, he knew it was not the time nor the place to do so.

"He doesn't have to do this right now, Vince," Minho said protectively, his dark eyes glaring at the man.

Newt looked at Minho with a soft smile as he put his hand on his friend's shoulder, to get his attention. "It's okay, Minho. He's right, he has the right to know. You all do."

Minho stared at him for a moment and a silent conversation started going on between the two of them. Thomas remembered being kind of jealous of their unspoken connection, back to the time he first arrived in the Glade. He was not jealous anymore, not after everything they'd been through together. After all that, he was now able to understand Minho and Newt with nothing but a glance. They were, after all, the people he cared most about in the entire world.

When Minho understood that Newt meant what he said he just nodded and turned away. His eyes were still glaring at Vince nonetheless.

Newt started scanning the room and Thomas followed his gaze until his eyes landed on Mike and James. The two were standing awkwardly at the back of the room as if trying to disappear into the fabric-made walls.

"It was them." Newt declared, and the eyes of all the people in the room turned towards the two boys. If their expressions were anything to go by, they would have preferred to dig a hole in the sand and disappear in it rather than being subjected to those looks.

"Mike and James," Newt continued. "They saved my life. They found me…"

At those words, Thomas instinctively leaned closer to Newt and he could feel Minho doing the same. They both understood how hard it must be for Newt to relive those moments, to speak of them out loud. Their gesture seemed to reassure Newt thought, and he went on with a newfound strength.

"They found me," He repeated, his voice steadier now. "And they understood that… well, that I wasn't dead. Not yet, at least. I mean, I probably had been… very close to it… but I can't quite remember, ya know?"

Newt broke out in a humorless, short-lived laugh before taking a deep breath. Thomas put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Newt looked up at him and his eyes seemed clouded.

"When they found me, it was clear I was turning into one of them." He resumed, looking back at Vince. "But then, at a closer look… they understood that the virus stopped spreading and that it was actually… well, that it slowly started receding. I guess that's what kept me alive for so long, even if barely."

Silence followed his declaration and he looked at his feet, gulping down anxiously.

"But… how?" Vince asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened attentively.

"It was… well…" Newt looked up at Thomas once again. "It was your blood."

Thomas could hear stunned whispers as Newt stared at him, face unreadable. Their eyes locked and the room around them seemed to disappear as if Newt was now talking to him and him alone.

"When I… when I got stabbed," He went on, eyes locked with Thomas'. "The knife was soaked in blood, _your_ blood, Tommy. That’s what made the difference. It wouldn't have been nearly enough to save me, but it stopped the virus long enough for Mike and James to find me. When they understood I was still alive they injected me with the serum and… I don't know what they did after that, but they saved my life, I guess."

Silence fell over the room as Newt and Thomas' eyes remained locked. It was _his blood_ that kept him alive? Was it true? But then again, how was that even possible? He was sure Newt was gone when he left him. He wouldn't have… if he knew he was _alive_ … he wouldn't…

Thomas felt his head spinning and his throat went dry. The only thing that kept him from losing it completely was Newt's fixed gaze. His eyes never left him and as Thomas felt like the ground was about to swallow him whole, Newt was the only thing keeping him anchored to the ground.

It was Minho to voice the thoughts that were eating at Thomas' brain.

"So when we left you there… you were… you were alive,” He said, his voice broken.

"Minho." Newt turned to look at him and Thomas blinked several times, trying to regain a bit of control. "Minho don't do this, please." Newt tried to catch Minho's eyes but the boy fled his gaze.

"I… I wanted to… but they… they made me… and… and…" Minho stuttered, looking miserable, with his elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands.

"He did appear dead." Mike cut in after a while, with a hesitant voice. "It was in a very peculiar state, only a doctor could see what was going on with him. It was… very difficult to tell, and cranks… they are not dead but sometimes… well, they don't look alive, either."

A heavy silence fell on the room until Brenda finally spoke. "But how did you two get the serum?" She asked, her eyes shuffling from Newt to the other two boys.

"Stole it," Mike answered, feeling the weight of all those wary eyes on him. "From WICKED."

"How?" Jorge demanded.

"We worked there," James answered, as easy as that. The people in the room started exchanging confused looks.

"We worked there," Mike rushed to explain. "But we wanted to escape. We didn't agree with WICKED's ways and the moment we saw a chance to leave we did, and we took the serum with us. I had access to the lab because I’m a doctor and I worked there. That's why we were able to break some vials out, to help the people outside the walls."

Mike didn't even stop to take in a breath as he sputtered out his story. At his side, James went completely still as if he was afraid something bad would happen now that they knew the truth about them.

They were all still staring at the two boys with mistrustful eyes when Gally suddenly stepped forward. "Hey! I know who you are!" He almost screamed. "I've heard a lot about you two. It was one of my guys that collected your vials."

James and Mike's faces opened up. "Yes!" James exclaimed. "We wanted to join you guys, do the right thing."

"And when we escaped," Mike prompted "We _swore_ we would help anyone that had ever been tormented by WICKED, so when we saw _him_ ," He said, looking at Newt. "We knew we had to do anything in our power to help him if we could. And we did."

"And if it wasn't for them," Newt concluded. "I wouldn't be here."

"Then… This settles it. Welcome to New Haven,” Vince declared after a moment of silence. Mike and James couldn't hold back their smiles, their previous fears now completely gone. "Besides," Vince added with a big, genuine smile. "We really needed a good doctor."

Thomas could see Mike's smile grow wider as the tension left his features. Even James - who was usually more on the lookout than his friend - started to relax his muscles and even mustered a smile. 

"But… how did you find us, Newt?" Frypan asked then, his eyes still watery and his voice clearly moved.

Newt's voice sounded different than before, way more relaxed now that he was finished talking about how he survived. It was clear that Thomas and Minho were still thinking about it though, about what they could have done differently… but Newt's smile seemed to give them a little bit of happiness back.

"Well, I knew if you made it out of the city you would go back to base and leave with the ship, just like we planned," Newt explained. "I kind of hoped to catch you before you left but of course that didn't happen. So we took a boat and just… went on looking for you. And well, we found you."

"So you were out there in the storm last night?" Gally asked, his eyebrows raised.

"We were." Newt nodded and Thomas stared at him, still incredulous. Could that be the reason why he was feeling so tense the night before? But how in the world could he have _known_?

"And what about the virus?" Jorge asked.

"Mike's been giving me the serum daily. We still have a fair amount of it left, but if he can replicate it, then…"

"Wait!" Thomas suddenly spat out, feeling his heart skip a bit. He cursed himself for being _so stupid_ as he started rummaging in his pockets until he finally found a familiar vial full of electric blue liquid. He calmed down a bit as his fingers curled around the small flask, before handing it over to Newt.

"There's no need for that," Thomas said, his lips finally curling up in a smile. Newt took the vial in his hands, staring at it with his brows furrowed in a confused expression. He looked up at Thomas then, with a questioning look painted on his face.

"That's… that's the cure." Thomas said, as easy as that.

Newt looked at the small vial again, his eyes wide and wary. "The cure? I… I don't understand."

"It's the cure. My blood's in it. That's what cured Brenda." Thomas explained, feeling excitement rise inside him.

"But how… how do you have it?" Newt asked, looking back at Thomas. The boy flinched at the memory of just _how_ he got the cure, but he brushed it all away.

"It's a long story," He cut short after a moment. "The important thing is… you will be okay."

Thomas heard Minho burst out in a laugh full of relief, patting his hand on Newt's back, tears glistening at the sides of his eyes. "Well, that's just _wonderful_!"

"Yes, that's great indeed!" Jorge exclaimed. "I believe we're in need for some celebration!" He rubbed his hands while his usual grin spread across his face.

"I agree," Vince said. "We'll go tell the others. Thomas, you can take care of Newt from now on, okay?"

Thomas nodded, still feeling a little dizzy, his eyes on the small vial still in Newt's hands. _The cure_. The cure that costed him so much. He knew he kept if for a reason. He knew it must have been worth it, somehow.

Vince left the room then, followed by Jorge. They were chatting loudly.

"Well, if there's a party then I have food to prepare!" Frypan jumped up, brushing off the remaining tears from his eyes. His big and bright smile was back on his face, just as usual. "I'll have some food delivered to you Newt, it seems like you need it! And welcome back, my friend."

Fry smiled at Newt, before shouting a "You two!" pointing his finger at Mike and James. "It seems like you're in need for some Frypan medicine as well! C'mon now!"

Frypan reached the two very confused boys, plunging his arms around their shoulders and guiding them towards the exit. The two boys looked back at Newt with a worried expression... they actually seemed terrorized, which almost made Thomas laugh. Newt just nodded in encouragement as Frypan shouted a "See you later guys!"

Gally was the next one out. "I'll think about the drinking!”

"Don't tell me he managed to cook up his moonshine, didn't he?" Newt asked as the boy disappeared as well.

Minho nodded, smiling widely. "It appears he did."

"Well, you can take it from here, can you guys?" Brenda said, looking at the three boys. She was acting with her usual confidence but Thomas could still see her watery eyes. "I'm going to pick up some wood for the fireplace. And to check on all of them, they need someone to supervise their work."

"And let me guess, that someone is you?" Minho asked mockingly.

"You can bet on it!" Brenda answered, winking at them. "And welcome back Newt." She added before leaving.

And just like that, the only remaining people in the room were Newt, Minho, and Thomas himself.

The three of them looked at one another then, their eyes still a bit watery. They were clearly still shocked by everything that happened in such a short amount of time, but they couldn't stop smiling like fools nonetheless. Up to that same morning, Thomas and Minho thought Newt was dead. Gone forever. Now he was _there_ , smiling at them, alive and well. And in a matter of minutes, he was going to be cured.

"Okay," Thomas said, getting up after a long moment of silence. "Let's do this."

He rushed to find a syringe, some alcohol, and bandages. He could hear Minho and Newt talking and chuckling softly in the background as he did so. Thomas couldn't really tell, but he was almost sure Minho was crying again and he sniffled, trying to keep his eyes clear and focused. He didn't save Newt in the Last City but he sure as hell was going to save him _right now._ He had been given a second chance and he was not going to waste it just because his stupid eyes insisted on being watery and his hands on shaking nervously.

As he prepped everything he needed he heard a young girl letting herself in, bringing a tray of food and water for Newt. The boy gulped down an entire pitcher of water in one go before picking at some food.

When Thomas came back, he kneeled in front of Newt and the blond handed him the vial, his hands steady.

"Okay," Thomas repeated when everything was ready. Their eyes locked and Newt nodded, giving him permission to proceed. For some reason, the three boys were holding their breaths, as if they were afraid something could still go wrong…

But nothing went wrong. Thomas carefully inserted the needle in Newt's right arm. He could feel Newt's eyes on him during the whole process, but he kept his own eyes on the light blue liquid being injected in Newt's veins.

When the last drop was out, he took out the syringe and pressed some gauze to Newt's arm, exerting a bit of pressure over the spot… and that was it. Just like that, Newt was cured. No more Flare virus, no more turning into a crank. No more risking his life.

The three boys started breathing again, together, and when Thomas looked up, Newt was smiling fondly at him. Thomas couldn't help himself from returning the smile.

He still couldn't believe all that was happening. To be honest, he still couldn't believe Newt _was actually there_. That he was _cured_. Thomas would have needed some days of getting used to the idea, but he was more than willing to live with that sort of confusion rather than the thought of having lost him forever.

"You should rest now," Minho said, his arm flung around Newt's shoulder. "You look tired."

"I am." Newt agreed. "But I don't want to."

"Hey," Minho exclaimed. "We'll still be here when you wake up. There will be _a party_ waiting for you! You need to get your beauty sleep!"

Newt chuckled softly but despite his words, it seemed like his eyes could fall shut at any moment.

"C'mon, Minho's right. You need to rest and you'll feel very sleepy now that the serum is kicking in. C'm here." Thomas helped Newt up and he ignored his protests as he dragged him out of the room.

"I'll go look for those two shuck-faces that saved your life," Minho announced when they got out, taking a long and deep breath. "I'm sure Fry stuffed ‘em up good, but they'll need some rest too. They looked like clunk."

"Yeah, maybe don't tell them that!" Newt exclaimed and Minho turned around to flash him one of his brightest smiles.

Minho lunged forward and hugged Newt one more time, holding him tightly for a short moment before turning to the other boy.

"You take care of him, Thomas!" He shouted as he started towards the dining area, waving at them before sprinting away. Thomas wasn't sure, but it seemed like his friend's eyes were still a bit watery, after all.

When Minho disappeared into the distance, Thomas turned to look at Newt. His friend looked like he could fall asleep on the spot. "C'mon", he said, tugging at his arm.

He led Newt across the various huts and he could feel other people's eyes following them, but he didn't return the curious glares. He only cared about bringing Newt to the safety of his own hut and lay him down to get his much-needed rest.

By the time he reached his cabin Thomas was almost dragging Newt, one of the boy's arms slumped around his shoulders to support him. The boy was already dozing off, his strength carried away by the tiredness and the effect of the cure kicking in. Thomas opened the door with his shoulder and stumbled inside, gently dropping Newt down onto his own bed.

"Thanks, Tommy," Newt said, his voice faint and sleepy.

"Wait, you need to change out of those clothes first." Thomas pointed out, closing the door behind his back.

Newt hummed in agreement, looking around the room absently. "Yeah, a shower would be bloody nice too."

Thomas chuckled while grabbing at some of his clean clothes. "Yeah, maybe later. I'm afraid you'd just end up falling asleep in the middle of it."

Newt just mumbled but didn't protest anymore as Thomas helped him getting rid of his salted and ragged clothes, carefully avoiding looking at him. He was not ready to see him, to see his skin, because what if it was still creaked and covered in black veins? What if the cut he left him was still bleeding? Thomas knew he was being paranoid and unrealistic, but still…

Besides, even though Newt told him not blame himself, he just couldn't do that. It _was_ his fault after all and it would have been just right for Newt to hate him. _Everything_ was his fault. He was at the beginning of it all, really. The Maze, the trials, the Scorch, the Last City… it all started because of him. 

Thomas looked at Newt sideways, as he finished dressing up. He wondered if after all Newt _did_ hate him, deep down. Even though his heart sunk at the mere thought of it, he knew Newt had all the rights to do so.

It was kind of difficult to imagine Newt hating him though - or anyone else - as he looked like that, with his hair messy and his eyes sleepy as he clumsily dressed up.

Thomas found himself smiling fondly at Newt as the boy finished putting on his clothes, right before falling back to his bed. Newt mumbled something incoherent as he made himself comfortable. He relaxed after a while, his eyes partly closed like he was struggling to keep them open. 

"Sleep tide, Newt," Thomas whispered, brushing away a lock of blond hair from his forehead, his fingers lingering only for a moment too long.

He smiled softly at him and as Newt's eyes slowly closed and his breathing evened down Thomas knew it would be okay, no matter what. Nothing could take away the happiness he felt when he saw him on the shoreline, when he realized it was _him_. Nothing, not even his darkest thoughts and nightmares. Newt was there and the only thing Thomas cared about was that he was okay and alive and _safe_. After everything they've been through, Thomas couldn't have wished for anything more.

He thought Newt was already asleep when he headed for the door, but his voice reached him before he could even open it.

"Stay with me, Tommy. Please?"

"What?" He asked while turning back to Newt, sure he didn't hear him right.

Newt's eyes were wide open now, and he was staring at him almost pleadingly.

"Stay with me." He repeated without hesitation.

Thomas felt his heart beat faster, his previous thoughts brushed away in seconds. If Newt hated him, he wouldn't want him to stay, wouldn't he? Thomas chose not to indulge in those thoughts any longer. He never felt his heart so full as in that moment.

"Of course." He answered as a contented smile spread on Newt's lips.

He did the few steps that separated him from the bed and sat down on it. With a strength Thomas didn't think Newt could have in such a state, the blond brought him down on the mattress, right next to him. Thomas obliged, lying on his back as Newt was on his side. He had one hand propped under his head and the other on the side of Thomas' face, stroking his cheek with his thumb as his eyes struggled to remain open.

"Thank you, Tommy." Newt said after a while, voice soft and fading.

"For what?" Thomas asked, taken aback.

It took a moment for Newt to answer. "For everything. For saving me."

"But I… I didn't…" Thomas murmured, his heart clenching.

"Yes," Newt repeated, firmly. "Yes, you did."

Newt fell asleep with those words still on his lips and his hand on Thomas chest, close to his heart.

Thomas stared at him for a while longer, still incredulous that Newt was _thanking_ him, after everything he put him through. He felt a warm feeling beginning to spread from the center of his heart, like Newt's words did something to him. And maybe, just maybe, one day he would have been able to forgive himself if even Newt had found in him the strength to do so.

Thomas didn't really mean to fall asleep, he wasn't tired exactly, more like emotionally drained. He wanted to stay awake, to look over Newt, just to be sure he was okay... but after a while, he felt his consciousness starting to fade away.

He finally fell asleep with Newt in his arms and the memories of that day lulling him into a peaceful slumber. For the first time after so long, his sleep was a peaceful and dreamless one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As I said before this was not beta’d so there probably are lots of mistakes and I apologize for that!!! Please do feel free to tell me, either here or just DM me on tumblr @[newtmazing](http://newtmazing.tumblr.com), I’d really appreciate it!
> 
> So back to the chap: there’s not much going on but hey, there was some emotional stuff there, right? Also, Newt is cured!!!! He is okay!!!!! He’s home!!!!!!! Everyone’s happy!!!! That’s what we deserved tbh :’)  
> Next chapter we’ll learn more about what happened to Newt, Thomas will give him a tour of Safe Haven and well, they’re also organizing a party so! More gladers fluff! And love! And feels! And happiness!!!
> 
> I really hope you guys liked this chapter and that you’ll be as excited as I am for the next one! Thank you SO MUCH for reading this and for sticking with me, I'm always stunned whenever I see one of your lovely comments and I still can’t believe you’re enjoying this! It makes me so happy!!! 
> 
> As usual, let me know what you think! Comments & kudos are super appreciated, and you can always find me on tumblr @[newtmazing](http://newtmazing.tumblr.com)! By all means, feel free to come chat with me whenever you’d like!


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